The Red Door and the White Picket Fence
by David Carner
Summary: Today is seven years since Chuck left the airwaves. A little post finale fluff to make you smile.


A/N: Seven years today. This is straight up fluff, not even gonna pretend otherwise.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, apparently WB does. Do with that what you wish.

* * *

He got out of the car and stood in front of the house with the red door and the white picket fence. It was supposed to be their house, but it wasn't. That's not how life worked out. He thought back to the candle lit dinner there, the fight that had nearly killed him, and taking the bullet. That was when a hand snaked it's way around his back.

"You really suck at this whole spy thing."

"Yeah, luckily I always stay in the car," he retorted, earning him a snort. "I guess it would be silly to ask what you're doing here, but I'm pretty sure I know." He turned to her and gave her a smile.

She reached up and moved his hair, too short for her liking, but old habits died hard.

"Well, you seemed distracted at breakfast today, and I was trying to figure out why-"

"Oh my god, you forgot."

"Shut. Up." But the smile on her face told him she wasn't mad, and the grin told him she found it funny as well.

"I mean you forgot the day you got your memory back. That is such a Sarah thing."

"Seriously, I will hurt you…and not the way you like it," she added in low tone.

He turned to her, mouth opened, a scandalized look on his face. "Well, I never."

She ignored him and looked at the sign. "It's open," she said. She started toward the door, but not before swatting him on the backside. He followed behind her as she opened the door. They walked inside, memories assaulting both of them.

"You okay?" he asked. She shook her head.

"This was supposed to be our home. This was supposed to be where we raised our kids and had parties out in the backyard, and grew old together. It was truly the first place that felt like I belonged, that I was a part of. I know the apartment was ours, and that was home, but this was ours, you know."

"We don't have to sell it," Chuck said softly. "We don't need the money."

She turned to him and gave him a look. "Chuck, come on, yes I have memories here, don't say a word," she added, pointing a finger at him. He made a motion of zipping his lips. "But to own this house just because it was our first house together….that's just….."

"Ridiculous?"

"Yeah."

"Any more ridiculous than getting a computer in my head?" She rolled her eye and shoved him. "Careful woman, I bruise easily."

She gave him a look through her lashes. "Do I need to kiss it and make it feel better?"

He nearly choked, and Sarah began to laugh. "Sarah, it's not like we need the money."

She walked up to him and pulled herself close against him. "I know," she said softly. "But we agreed we didn't need multiple houses."

"Yeah, but if it makes you happy," he trailed off and shrugged, grinning at her.

"Chuck you, our kids, our life, that makes me happy. And we have a beautiful new house, with a white picket fence, and a red door, and designed the way we want it. This was a step in our lives. An important step, but one all the same. It's time for someone else to make this house their home. I kinda like the idea of a couple buying it, just starting out and maybe some of the things we went through will give them the strength to get through their rough spots."

"That's kinda deep, Mrs. Bartowski."

"I have those thoughts sometimes." She grinned at him. "I also have other thoughts, that are just basically this side of animalistic urges."

"Are you having one of those now?"

"Several," Sarah replied.

Chuck cleared his throat and blinked. "We should get home."

"Home is where ever you are, Chuck," Sarah said.

"Think we left any towels behind in case we need a shower?" Sarah just grinned.

-ooooo-

They walked out several hours later, hand in hand, and saw a young couple standing in front of the house, admiring it.

"Are you going to buy it?" they asked Chuck and Sarah.

Sarah glanced at Chuck and then back to the couple. "No, we actually are selling it. We just went back to say goodbye."

"Why are you selling it?" the man asked.

Chuck glanced at Sarah and then back to the couple. "It was a part of an important stage of our life, but now, we're at a place where it's time for something else."

"We've toured it a few times," the woman said to Chuck.

"Steve and Shelly Franks?" Sarah asked. Shelly nodded. "Sorry, I was a cop, and old habits die hard."

"Do you like the house?" Chuck asked.

"We love it," Shelly gushed. He saw Steve give her a look. It was obvious he was going to try and make a lower offer. "It's just out of our price range."

"Make an offer," Chuck said.

"We couldn't," Steve insisted. They all turned and looked at Shelly when she made an offer twenty thousand less than the list price of the house.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "It's your call, this house meant everything to you."

Sarah looked at Chuck, and then to the couple in front of them. She slowly shook her head. "No, I'm afraid I can't accept that." The couple looked disappointed. "Take twenty more off your offer and I will though."

Shelly and Steve's eyes lit up. "Are you serious?" she asked. Sarah nodded, and suddenly found herself being hugged.

-ooooo-

"What?" she asked later, falling into bed beside him, watching him watch her all night.

"That was a very generous thing you did today," Chuck said softly. "I was actually thinking about your dad."

"Oh, God," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Kid, don't be a schnook," she did in her best Jack Burton voice.

"Yeah, because he hasn't been around to see his grandkids at all," Chuck teased. Sarah smiled at him. Jack had been around more in the last four years than he had been in Sarah's life the ten before that. He kept saying it was to make sure she was okay, but everyone watched him with his grandkids.

"Sometimes people need a chance to let love grow," she said, not looking at him. "Sometimes they just need someone to take a chance on them…sometimes multiple chances."

"If you love someone, it's not that big of a chance," Chuck said softly. She scooted over to him. "More thoughts?"

"Oh, yeah," she replied.

"Sarah," he said, sitting up. "We have to go back, we left those towels!"

She pulled him back down. "We can worry about that tomorrow, tonight, it about us Mr. Bartowski."

"Have I even mentioned, Mrs. Bartowski, how MUCH I like it when you say it like that?"

"And have I ever told you how much I like being called Mrs. Bartowski?"

Chuck studied her for a moment. "The CIA, NSA, and Quinn couldn't stop us."

"Who's this Quinn guy?" she asked, confusion on her face. Chuck's eyes grew wide and she began to burst out laughing. "You are too easy." Chuck waggled his eyebrows. "Waaaay to easy. But I like that about you."

"Please, you like everything about me."

"Yeah," she said a little breathlessly. "I do."

* * *

A/N: Fluff levels satisfied. Take care kids.

DC


End file.
